Looking to neither side, betraying by not so much as the flicker of an eyelid the fact that they saw the wagon and its occupants, they swerved around and continued down the trail. Even Mike's savage lunge at their dogs, a lunge that was halted only because Tad reefed full strength on the rope, did not disturb for one second the dogs, horses or riders. Without a single backward glance they disappeared around another knoll, and Joe halted the wagon to let Tad get in. "Gee!" Tad gasped. "Was that a war party?" "Must have been," Joe asserted. But he knew it was not. Though he was unfamiliar with western Indians, Joe had heard that war parties bedecked their cheeks with war paint and wore scalp locks. That might and might not be true. A man heard a lot of things and he was silly as an ox if he believed all of them. However, a war party would not have ridden so nonchalantly up the Trail where they were so easily seen. Probably they were just three Indians going to Laramie, but Tad wanted desperately to find great adventure on this journey and it would do no harm to let him think that he had at least brushed elbows with it. "You're smart, Pa!" Tad breathed. "Why do you say that?" "Suppose old Mike had been loose, and pitched into those dogs like he wanted to? First thing, wham! They'd 've tried to help their dogs and we'd 've had a nice fight on our hands!" "Sure thing," Joe agreed. He smiled to himself because of the disappointed down pitch in Tad's voice. The youngster ate, slept, and traveled with a mighty dream of a fight with Indians. He could have his dream, but not, if Joe could possibly help it, the fight. He wanted to reach Oregon, and anything that interfered with that goal was, at the very least, an unpleasant annoyance. Anything that put his family in danger, if there was a way to keep them out, would be an unforgivable error. They stopped for lunch, went on, and there were two hours of daylight remaining when Joe smelled wood smoke. Five minutes later, he saw Snedeker's. The post was at one side of the Trail, in a group of pines, and scattered pines grew on snow-clad hills that rolled away from the post. The main building, a solid structure of heavy logs, was the center of a group of buildings which probably served as warehouses, stables, and quarters. About two hundred yards away, a little bunch of horses that were grazing in the snow raised their heads to watch the mules come in. They were Indian ponies, thin and gaunt. An old mule grazed all alone, and in a pole corral at one side were three nice-looking saddle horses. Probably they were personal mounts for whoever lived at Snedeker's.